We Follow the Path Paved by Our Hearts
by WonderPickle
Summary: An extended version of Walter and Happy's conversation during the scene in 4x08, if only they'd been more talkative. One-shot.


**they're my favorite friendship on the show...so this idea wouldn't let me go**

* * *

Prepared to head back down the steps, she turned.

"Happy," Walter called, "how exactly am I supposed to look into my heart?"

Rotating slightly, Happy exposed a sole cocked eyebrow. "What's it telling you to say?"

"I don't know," he admitted, forehead scrunching. "That's why I need to atone for my mistake in the first place."

"I can't tell you what you feel, Walt."

Walter looked like he was half expecting more of an answer, but when a frown etched into his cheeks, he wordlessly admitted he shouldn't have spoke at all.

Taking notice, Happy heaved an internal sigh.

"Right," Walter muttered.

She dropped beside him onto the bed. "You know what you feel for Paige."

"I _thought_ so." He lowered both the guitar and his eyes. "Now I'm...confused." Upon glancing at her inquisitive eyebrows, he immediately corrected, "No-no, the feeling is _there_."

"You still love her," Happy asked for confirmation.

"Yes," he reassured. "But I am _repeatedly_ mishandling everything."

She responded with a gentler tone than normal. "You're in the early stages of this relationship. It's not all smooth sailing, captain."

"Was it not for you and Toby?"

Happy scoffed. "Hell no. _You_ made sure of that, boss."

He pressed his lips together apologetically. "Sorry."

"Apology accepted," she acknowledged, changing the subject back. "But it just _doesn't_ happen. For anyone."

Walter's brows furrowed. "But we love-"

"Doesn't make the start of the relationship any easier." She shook her head. "You're learning how to function as a unit. Despite whatever feeling's there. Not an easy task."

He thought for a moment. "That's what I'm doing poorly."

"Being a good half to the whole?" Happy prompted.

"Yeah," Walter confirmed, scorn brimming his tone's surface. But it was directed at himself, not her. "That."

Shifting, she crossed her legs. "It takes getting used to, Walt. But you'll figure it out. Like-getting a new car to fix up. Seeing what makes her tick."

"You want me to see what makes Paige tick?"

"No." Happy nudged an invisible barrier with her forehead. "Decipher the Paige code. What she wants you to do. How she expects your dates to go. There's no formula to make everything perfect, cause it won't be. You gotta learn as you go."

Beginning to grasp more of her point, Walter replied, "I already know her. For three years I've known her, Happy."

"Okay," she agreed. "But do you know the most efficient way to wake her up when she's overslept? When she's pissed, you know the best way to douse the flame? Which massage technique she likes best? Favorite breakfast food? What remedy she likes for cramps?"

He blinked, going straight for deflection. "This conversation has spread far past my intention."

"You're understanding her," she continued. "Three years doesn't mean squat for determining your guys' system."

Walter became more confused than he had thus far. "It took me three years to realize I loved her. I wanted to be with her. ...You're saying that accounts for nothing?"

"It _did_ build trust-set your feelings ship sail and all that jazz. But you weren't _together_ during that time. You haven't learned Paige inside and out." She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Your relationship isn't the same as mine and Toby's-or Cabe and Allie's-or Sly and Megan's-or _anyone's_. It's Walter and Paige's."

"Aren't there fundamentals germane to _all_ relationships?"

"Sure," Happy supplied. "For example, _not_ listening to a science lecture during a live music date."

Walter winced. "Mmm."

"There's certain boyfriend standards no matter what. You need to determine where Paige's lie."

Starting to catch on, he said, "So, if Toby listened to a physicatry lecture during one of your dates, you would become upset?"

"Well, Toby would never _do_ that, because he knows I would kick the crap out of him-but yeah."

"And if he attempted to efficientize your nightly routine by discarding all of your beauty products for a single simpler solution," he was clearly not over it, "it would produce the same reaction?"

Happy angled her finger pointedly. "There's the difference. I don't use beauty products. I have one-maybe two _max_ -store brand bottles for times my face needs a good scrub after a sticky case. Doesn't apply."

"So that's an occurrence in which I need to...figure it out?"

Happy patted his arm. "You got it, boss." She peered at the guitar, still balanced across his knees. The main point of the conversation had been to discuss how to properly give Paige the gift of song, and she hadn't yet answered the question fully. "And, about the song...don't be stupid, listen to what I said, and this won't keep happening."

He sighed.

"Describe what you feel. Why you love her-what you love about her. All the mushy stuff that comes to mind? Make it song form. Then put the sucker in front of some musical notes. And boom." She gestured knowingly. "She'll melt like a piece of tin under a four-hundred-fifty degree heat lamp."

"This will make her feel better?" he pondered hopefully.

"Yeah," Happy answered. "Just don't math it up. I know your heart is your least favorite organ, O'Brien, but you gotta let it guide you. It's what landed you this relationship in the first place."


End file.
